CHAPTER 88: FRACTURES AND FIRELIGHT

Josie

I shoved at Thorne’s chest—not because I hated the kiss. That wasn’t it at all. In fact, it was the exact opposite, and that was the problem. It threw me off balance, ripped the floor right out from beneath me. My fingers were still twisted in his shirt, and I had to force them to let go.

"Thorne—" I breathed, pulling back slightly. His mouth chased mine for a second before he stilled, hovering just inches away, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"What the hell was that supposed to be?" I asked, searching his face, trying to understand how we got from fighting to this. "You think kissing me makes up for ignoring me? For sitting on your ass while I drown out there?"

He didn’t answer. He just stood there, jaw tight, the raw emotion from earlier swallowed up by that damn mask he always wore.

"You think you can just—"

"Leave," he cut me off, voice low and sharp like a blade.

I blinked. "What?"

"I said leave, Josie."

My chest caved in on itself. For a heartbeat, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

"You kiss me like you’re starving," I said quietly, the burn in my throat sharp. "Then tell me to leave like I’m nothing. What is wrong with you?"

His jaw flexed, but he didn’t say a word.

I took a shaky step back, my voice a whisper now. "Why do you always have to choose hurting me?"

He didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t.

I turned and walked away because staying would only shatter whatever pieces of me I had left. By the time I made it to my room, I felt like a ghost of myself. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at nothing in particular. The room felt too quiet, too cold, and far too empty.

Everything that had happened—it was too much. The confrontation with Michelle and the elders, Thorne’s apathy, that kiss that left me breathless and bruised in all the ways that mattered. I felt cracked open, like the world had carved me hollow and left me with nothing but this endless ache.

I needed a distraction.

I reached for my phone and ordered a meal, not really caring what it was. Something warm, something that would pretend to fill the void in my stomach. A bath was added as a bonus, probably some automatic pack privilege thing, and I didn’t argue. I needed that too. Something to wash away the filth of the day.

As the water filled the tub, I sat on the floor beside it, knees pulled to my chest, thinking. Just... thinking.

I couldn’t keep doing this alone. I had too many moving parts, too many enemies wearing friendly faces, and too many secrets hanging over my head like a guillotine. If I slipped, even once, everything would fall apart.

By the time I wrapped myself in a towel and returned to my room, I had already come to one hard conclusion: I needed help. Whether I liked it or not.

But just as I reached for the doorknob to go find it, the door swung open on its own.

I stepped back, startled.

Kiel and Varen stood in the doorway.

Varen’s eyes scanned the room like he was checking for threats. Kiel’s gaze went straight to me.

"You okay?" Kiel asked, his voice softer than I expected.

I lifted one shoulder in a shrug, my wet hair dripping onto the carpet. "I’ve had better days."

Varen walked in first, his presence grounding. Kiel followed, closing the door behind them.

Kiel looked tense, like the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders. "I need to know what’s going on at the hospital," he said. "No games, Josie. No half-truths. Just tell me."

I crossed my arms, feeling the towel slip slightly. "Michelle wants us to break up. That’s what all this is about."

Varen raised an eyebrow. "You think it’s that simple?"

"No," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I think it’s more complicated than that. But the only way our plan works is if she thinks she’s winning. If she thinks we’ve fallen apart."

Kiel’s mouth twisted. "I don’t care what Michelle thinks."

I met his eyes. "You should. She’s not just bitter. She’s dangerous. She’s a witch with power and influence, and if we underestimate her, she’ll gut us."

"She already tried," Varen muttered.

I nodded. "There’s a lot you don’t know yet. And I’m not ready to explain it all, but I promise I’m not doing this to hurt anyone. I just need to protect myself before I end up like the others who stood in her way."

Kiel looked like he wanted to argue, but something in my voice must’ve stopped him.

Varen glanced at me, then at Kiel. "I want to stay with her tonight."

Kiel frowned. "Why?"

"Because," Varen said simply, "I don’t trust that she’s safe. And I don’t think you do either."

That surprised me—his honesty, his directness. But what surprised me even more was how relieved I felt hearing it.

I looked between them. "I don’t mind."

Kiel hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. But if anything happens..."

Varen held up a hand. "I got it."

Kiel left shortly after, giving me a look that was hard to decipher. I didn’t know what it meant, and I didn’t ask. I was too drained.

Once the door closed behind him, I flopped back on the bed with a sigh.

"You okay?" Varen asked, walking over and sitting beside me.

"I don’t know," I admitted. "I’ve been pretending for so long, I’m not sure what okay feels like anymore."

He gave a small chuckle. "You’re stronger than you think."

"You sound like a motivational poster."

"I’ll take that as a compliment."

That made me laugh. Actually laugh. A small, genuine sound that felt foreign in my throat.

Varen grinned. "See? Told you I had my uses."

I shook my head. "I don’t remember the last time I laughed like that."

He smirked. "Want me to tell you the story of how I once tried to shift mid-air and landed face-first into a tree? Or maybe the one about me getting stuck in a hotel laundry chute during a mission?"

I covered my mouth, giggling. "Stop. You’re going to kill me."

He leaned in slightly, eyes twinkling. "Glad to know I still have it."

Somewhere between the stories and laughter, I stood up to grab a bottle of water and completely missed my footing. One misstep—that’s all it took.

I stumbled, and before I could catch myself, Varen reached out and caught me. His arms closed around me, solid and warm.

I gasped softly, looking up at him, my heart pounding.

Our eyes met.

There was a pause. A slow, dangerous pause.

And then we kissed.

Hard.

It wasn’t soft or uncertain—it was fire and hunger and everything I didn’t know I needed. His lips crashed into mine like he’d been holding back for too long. My fingers curled into his shirt, and I kissed him back like I had nothing to lose.

He tasted like heat and adrenaline, his hands sliding down to grip my hips. I was dizzy, breathless, my whole body alight.

When we finally pulled apart, I was gasping, my face flushed and—

Oh no.

I could feel it. I was wet.

Mortified, I stepped back quickly, biting my bottom lip and refusing to meet his eyes.

But Varen didn’t mock me. Didn’t tease. He looked genuinely concerned.

"Did I... make you uncomfortable?" he asked gently.